The T-bone Report

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

I haven't raced much the past few years.I want to continue racing for the next 60
years of my life, which means I've been more selective, so that I keep the
enjoyment and excitement of toeing a start line.The two downsides of not racing as often is
that a) it takes some racing to really get yourself up to "A" level
race speed, and b) that you weigh each race more heavily when not racing
often.I was really looking forward to
being back at it last Sunday, and especially in a World Championship
event.

We pulled the kids out of school on Friday, and left our house at
4:30am for the 450 mile drive up to Mont Tremblant.The drive was easy, and seven hours later, we
were pulling into the small, very scenic Canadian ski village.Registration for the race closed Friday at
4pm (no registration Saturday), so I made my way over to the race headquarters,
only to find the line to register about a 1/4 mile long.I'm not good in lines, which meant grabbing
lunch was the priority, hoping afterwards the line would go down.No chance.I ended up waiting two hours in line to register.I've been racing for 25 years and I've never
waited in a line longer than 45 minutes to register!The inefficiency of the registration process
was surprising, considering the WTC have been hosting races for quite some time
now, and that this was a World Championship race.

Saturday consisted of a light jog, some breakfast, an easy spin,
checking in the bike, walking around the village, taking the gondola to the top
of the mountain, watching the kids rock climb and luge, and otherwise
relaxing.I felt good.I was a bit nervous which is always a good
sign - it means I'm ready and anxious to race and that it still means something
to me.

We stayed at the Westin and our room had a full kitchen area, so
I was able to toast a bagel for breakfast, make some coffee, go set my bike up,
then head back up to the hotel room and relax.This is such a positive at a race - getting
to hang out in your room until the start of the race!Mont Tremblant is a great venue for a race -
what happened this day was not a result of the venue, but rather some bad luck
and the WTC's organization.

After getting my wetsuit on, I kissed my family goodbye, and
walked down to the water.As I walked
down, I thought of how dramatic we could make a race.The reality is that I'm going out to exercise
for 4 hours and change, something i love to do!Why do we complicate things?The air temperature early on was in the low 50's, but it was sunny
out.The water temperature was in the
low to mid 60's.The pro's left at 8am,
and my group was scheduled to start at 8:36.After another men's age group left, my waive was issued into the corral,
and I began to do some shoulder stretches.My training for the race was solid except of course in the swim.I was hoping my five swims since St. Croix
would be enough to get me out in around 27 to 28 minutes.Just as the announcer yelled "two minutes!",
my zipper opened up on my wetsuit.My
friend Leo who was also racing helped try to fix the broken zipper, but to no
avail.Because of the water and air
temps, I knew I needed a wetsuit for warmth, and I also knew I was going to be
dragging this busted wetsuit through a slow swim.The cannon sounded and we all crashed into the
water to start the day.My wetsuit
quickly filled with water from the open zipper, and it felt as though I was
dragging a parachute.Now, I'm very
comfortable in the water.I'd consider
my comfort and ability to relax in the water one of my strengths.This was the first time in a triathlon swim
that I actually had a bit of panic.As
I'm dragging this water filled wetsuit through the water, I'm also dealing with
the highly competitive athletes, grabbing, pushing, kicking, and swimming on
top of me, something common to everyone in a competitive triathlon swim
start.Fighting both of these situations
was exhausting and I soon found myself hyperventilating.I focused on exhaling, and counted to blank
my mind and this worked.The traffic
never really thinned out, and the swim took a lot out of me, but I knew my bike
and run fitness were solid.The swim
took me 30 minutes, slower than I wanted and with more effort, but not as bad
as I anticipated all things considered.

The run to T1 was long, but it gave me a chance to get some blood
flowing to my lower extremities.I heard
Kate yell for me, threw my goggles to Lisa, and ran quickly to the change
tent.I'm still racing at this point,
and every second counts.I grabbed a
chair far away from everyone as Lisa still has me paranoid after what happened
to me in Hawaii in 2012. On went my helmet and sunglasses, I grabbed some
nutrition, and took off towards my bike.I decided to work the first 10 miles of rollers out to rt 117, hoping to
catch some of the faster swimmers and distance myself from those near me.I was pushing 310-320 watts on the flats, and
320-340 on the hills, and moving along at around 25 mph - I bring this data up
not to say "look at me" but to show the difference when you are
cheating.There was a guy from South
America and another from Italy locked onto my wheel, which was annoying, but I
thought that once we hit some of the longer rollers on rt 117, I'd lose them.Either that or a draft marshall on a
motorcycle would catch them and penalize them.This did not happen though.Instead, at around mile 10, a pack of maybe 25 or 30 athletes came
swarming up on me!I couldn't believe it
- they were all working as a pack, taking turns at the front. As I was in the
pack, I noticed I was pedaling at only 220 watts and going 26 mph!I drifted off the back of this pack, not
wanting to partake in this cheating bullshit.My two foreign friends stayed with the pack.As I fell out of the draft, I watched this
pack ride away from me.I have to admit
I was really discouraged now - the fun was dissipating.This reminded me quickly of Hawaii 2012, and
of the last time I raced 70.3 Worlds in Clearwater - both of these races having
similar huge packs.For anyone who may
be reading this who doesn't race triathlons,drafting, or riding in a pack is illegal as it's a huge advantage.You are supposed to allow for three bike
lengths between you and the next rider in front of you.There are draft marshals out there on
motorcycles who are supposed to break it up and issue penalties.They were out there, but they weren't doing a
thing except blowing their whistles.If
penalized, you are required to pull into the next penalty tent on the course
and serve a four minute penalty.As I
rode by these penalty tents, they were empty.

Everyone has heard the complaining on drafting before, especially
from me, so I won't beat this horse much more.Long story short here, over the next 30 miles, I was swallowed up by two
more huge pelotons, consisting of 20+ athletes.I knew now that my race to be competitive and aim for the podium was
over.I was beyond irritated, and those
who know me know that I can become a bit disgruntled when dealing with
bullshit, to put it mildly.Then, at
mile 45, on a nice uphill section of the course, things got worse.I was riding alone, climbing this hill, as an
athlete came by on my left and cut right in front of me.You have 15 seconds to drop back the three
bike lengths, so I began easing up.On
uphills, the draft benefit isn't nearly as significant, so penalties are not
typically issued there.As I was
dropping back, a draft marshall pulls up next to me and yells "you are
receiving a four minute penalty for drafting off that rider".I went ballistic.Again, I've been racing for 25 years, and I
have been called for drafting twice - at Hawaii in 2012, and here, both World
Championship events with huge packs and tons of drafting occurring during the
race.I don't know how to ride in these
unfair races.The bike is my other strength
and I thrive on grinding it out alone.The irony; If I had stayed in the pack, I would have been safe from a
penalty!!I yelled at the marshall;
"you have got to be fucking kidding me!!!" We argued for at least a
minute, before I called him an asshole and road off.Now I'm not proud of this and it's definitely
not the best action to take if you are trying to appeal something.My temper got the best of me.As I rode up to the last penalty tent on the
course, again, with know one in it, I blew right by it.

The really bothersome part about the whole experience during the
ride is that the majority of those racing in these packs seemed to accept the
fact that this was part of racing now.They seemed to go along with it.

I changed into my run gear quickly, and headed out for the hilly
13.1 mile two loop run.They changed the
course from the other Tremblant races to make it more spectator friendly and in
doing so made it much more challenging, and it was a great course!My legs were heavy, but not dead.I actually ran the second loop much stronger
than the first and ran the last three miles at six minute per mile pace.I crossed the line in 4 hours 29 minutes,
about 10-14 minutes off my goal, but that didn't really matter any more after
the nonsense that ensued.I knew soon
that they'd DQ me as well for blowing off the penalty tent, and I didn't
care.My kids got to see me cross the
finish line on a beautiful day in a very cool venue, which became the new goal
while running.

To say my last two World Championship experiences were
disappointing from a racing perspective is an understatement.I did some race debriefing, as I typically
do, shortly after the race with my father.He mentioned to me "Eric, you have some soul searching to do here.the sports changed and maybe your racing days
are over."But I quickly rejected
that.I think that maybe my days of
trying to test myself against the best athletes in my age group at these World
Championship races might be over.There
are great athletes racing in these events, but the events themselves are set up
so they are anything but fair tests.The
WTC keeps opening more events, and they keep selling out, so even though they
know it's a huge problem, why would they do anything to change things? But I love to race and will continue to find
races out there like St. Croix, that offer a smaller field, great course, and
fair racing.(I appreciate and respect
St. Croix more and more as time goes by).And also, things have changed for me in that in the past, I was all
about racing.Now, I really enjoy having
a goal out there to focus on and then developing a plan of action to get me to
that starting line dialed in.Standing
on the beach Sunday morning waiting for the race to start, I was thinking about
my build over the previous two months.The process of getting myself to a level where I felt ready to give my
best effort.That's what I'm enjoying
more now - the training process.I still
need that race goal out there - that's what keeps us honest and gives us
focus.But it's in the details of the
daily and weekly training that I'm finding satisfaction in.That's where the passion is.

That afternoon, after the race, Lisa, Ryan, Kate and I did a few
more luge runs - racing each other, took another gondola ride and walked around
the top of the ski mountain, laughed a bunch, and really enjoyed the rest of
our adventure in Mont Tremblant before heading home early Monday.These experiences are all learning experiences,
even if they don't go according to plan.Now, I'm combing the calendars looking for a late season race to end the
year with and to not waste this fitness!

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

Fifth times a charm? Lisa is smarter than me, but I think (I know) she knows my stubbornness and realizes that I may (I do) have selective hearing sometimes (most of the time) when she's trying to talk sense into me. So she steps aside and acts supportive. She's actually not acting supportive - she is supportive. When I told her in the fall that I was planning on going back to St. Croix to race, she was supportive in me going but said she was going to sit this one out. She had watched me suffer four other times on this bitch of a course. Lisa know's that I can do this race twenty times and I'm going to suffer. She knows I'm a bigger guy coming off our winter going to race in a very hot and humid climate. She knows that the only way for me to truly race well there is to spend a few weeks training and acclimating in the same conditions leading into the race, and who has the time with work and family to do just that? It took me five tries to realize this. Lisa got it after one.

My preparation for this race has been different every time, which is one of the things I love about this sport. I love coming up with a game plan, and then focusing on the process. One hurdle that has always been the top priority though is how to overcome the heat and humidity, knowing that I don't have the luxury of spending time in the same climate. My plan this year was quite simple; get myself into super condition, then ride the bike segment of St. Croix at 80% or at my Ironman pace rather than 1/2 IM pace, conserving as much as possible for the run.

My training for this event really kicked off the second week of March, coming off my Tucson camp. I got to spend a good deal of time riding and running with the athletes at this camp which brought my base around and provided a nice springboard to start my build towards St. Croix. I don't think many realize the importance of timing a build. If you stay in relatively good shape year round, you don't want to begin to early and peak weeks before the actual event. Yet, athletes get paranoid that they are behind, hammer themselves into a state of over extension and go into their peak race flat.

Mother Nature decided to throw in another curve ball with this silly winter we had. Besides the Tucson camp, I did absolutely all of my cycling training for this race indoors on my computrainer. One may think that, besides the nasty weather, this was to train in warmer conditions and really sweat, but this only helps the acclimation mildly, as it's that hot sun close to the equator, beating down on you that can't be replicated. There were days where I could have ridden outside but to be honest, I get a better session indoors on the ct, and I'm getting tired of the Connecticut road conditions and the irresponsible drivers texting and on their phones. For those with computrainers, I did every single session in ergo mode, controlling the watts, and focusing on quality over quantity. Every ride had a purpose and I also focused on frequency throughout the week over general weekly volume. I rode often, most rides in the one hour to 90 minute range and a handful of two hour rides. I did not do any rides longer than two hours and ten minutes for this race, besides the base training in Tucson. All this indoor time was really just a good excuse for me to catch up on House Of Cards and Game Of Thrones. It was fun documenting the progression though. In early March, my harder, longer intervals were at 270 watts and I'd recover at 200 watts. In mid April, these same intervals were at 310 watts and I'd recover at 240 watts. I would and will use this indoor approach again. It's a no nonsense approach that allowed me to work on my weakness in cycling which is higher cadence. I'm a masher and my lower cadence bigger style works well on the bike but is not the most conducive form for getting off the bike and running well. I do think though that if you are not a strong technical rider or if you are doing events longer than 70.3 races like Ironmans, it's imperative to get outside each week for a ride or two.

The only hiccup I had was three weeks out from the race, I had a family vacation planned for my kids spring break and would be off the bike for a week. However, the nice thing about triathlon is that when you cannot get n one of the disciplines for a week, it's a great opportunity to work on the other two. And since I had not done any swimming since the last time I raced, which was Kona 12', (with the exception of a few easier swims at my Tucson camp), I needed to get this up and going. So during that vacation, I ran most mornings while the family was still sleeping, and then would sneak in a twenty to thirty minute ocean swim at some point when the kids were going to get their third or fourth virgin pina colada for the day. During one of these early morning runs in Aruba, where it was particularly warm for this time of the day, I had a sobering realization that I was tired of suffering in the heat. Most of the key races that I have done in time were all in very hot and humid places. Hawaii being the biggest, but also St. Croix, Buffalo Springs, Eagleman. Hell, I even did the Tupper Lake 1/2 IM one year which is up near Lake Placid, New York, and that race day, temperatures hit an all time high for the region setting a record! I've done well in hot races, but I don't want to confuse that with what they take and may have taken out of me. I shoved these thoughts into a dark corner of my brain. I didn't tell Lisa my sudden realization. I had a race I committed to and I needed to stay focused.

I flew out to St. Croix the Thursday before the race, and stayed at the Carambola resort which is located near the infamous Beast around 15 miles away from Christiansted (Christiansted is the hub for the race). I prefer to stay away from all the commotion. Every year, triathlons, or more to the point triathletes, get a little bit more intense. Especially at these WTC events that are offering Kona and 70.3 world championship slots. Going out to the race solo was in hindsight a good thing. It allowed me to really do some thinking. As Molson said to me in a note the week before; "A man on a mission - I like it". The Carambola was perfect as the resort is big, yet spread out, on a beautiful beach. There were maybe only two or three other trigeeks staying there that I saw. I spent a lot of my solo time in the ocean, thinking about the race, the fact that I haven't raced since 2012, about the absolute fact that on race day, there will be a point during the run, more than likely early on in the run, where I was going to suffer from that overheating dehydrated miserable feeling I've experienced often. I know, why bother with the negative thoughts, right? But unless some freak weather pattern that has never existed here before gives us temps in the 70's with light cloud cover on race day, it was just an inevitability and it's important to not be naive and wrap your mind around the fact. I thought about what and how much I've gotten out of my little triathlon hobby, and about where I want it to go. besides meeting up occasionally with one of my athletes, Nick, who was racing in St. Croix as well, I spent all my time out on that island alone, and i have to say, it was time well spent. I can't remember the last time I've done a solo trip like this, but I think it's really beneficial to do every so often. I went to dinners alone, with just a book. There is a small outside dinner spot two miles from the Carambola called "eat" that serves fresh fish, and has Chimay beer, and you can watch the sun set on the Caribbean. That's tough to beat.

I felt really good race week. My muscles felt loose, I felt fresh in the light training I did, and I was anxious to get the wheels rolling. My legs felt full of energy, almost as if they were twitching to go. These were good signs and I'd be lying if I said this is common race week. In fact, it's more common to feel heavy legged and lethargic during a taper as the body is more used to being in motion and also is finally getting a chance to rest. I had an early dinner Saturday night, watched the Kentucky derby and then some basketball, and fell asleep early.

Finally, race day was here. It was of course projected to be hotter than usual on race day, since there weren't any clouds in the sky. The winds which usually blew lightly from the east, were now blowing strong from the southeast. The best thing about this race, apart from the amazing and challenging course itself, is the laid back, grass roots feel from the race director and organizers. It has that chill, island vibe. Not so much with the competitors though. St. Croix is one of the few WTC races that does not fill up - because of the difficulty of the course, and maybe the difficulty in getting to the island. However, it's also known as one of the races on the circuit with the best competition. Most go there because they want a chance at winning a slot. I met 10 or so athletes during race week in my age group alone who told me their sole purpose for coming to race in St. Croix was to get a slot for Kona or Tremblant. In fact, I later heard that 8 of the top ten in my age group were previous Kona competitors. And this game day competitiveness and focus was more than evident race morning.

You swim a couple hundred meters over to an island where the race starts and wait for your wave. the waves here are actually close together, as, the course will spread out the competition. The plus of this is of course not having to wait around to long before your wave goes. The minus is swimming through the earlier waves. I got out to a quick start and got on the feet of a solid open water swimmer - meaning he was moving well and knew how to pick a good line. The swim felt surprisingly good! I love swimming in salt water so maybe that mindset had something to do with it. Swim times were slower due to some strong currents out in the bay, which also mad it a bit choppy. I haven't checked but I think I exited the water fourth or fifth in my age group. Coming out of the water with me was a team timex Canadian guy who has raced pro for 15 years or so and recently just retired. He caused a bit of controversy amongst the amateurs. Many feel that if you have raced pro for that long, training full time and racing with the best for so many years, that you shouldn't be allowed to just jump back into the amateur ranks and take a world championship slot. I see their point. He took off at an aggressive pace on the bike and initially I went with him. Then I thought about my game plan - ride the race at IM effort or 80%, and backed off. The first eight miles were the worst part of the ride for me in regards to how my legs felt. But once we looped back through town and headed out on the scenic ocean road that takes us to the Beast, I began to feel smooth and the pace felt easy. My cadence was definitely faster than previous races, thanks to the diligent computrainer work. The first twenty miles, out to the Beast, you have a lot of guys riding hard and jockeying for position. There were three other guys in my age group that kept playing cat and mouse with me during this early segment. I say they were playing with me because I was adamant about sticking to my game plan and rode steady, and not shortly after I'd pass them, they'd come flying back around. Then you hit the weeder outer - the Beast. The Beast is a mile long climb with an average gradient over 14% and some sections over 20%. Even if you try to ride easy up it, you just can't. People fall over quite often on the climb from lack of correct gearing. I had a 39 on the front and a 28 on the back and I'm always still looking for some easier gears. I stayed as relaxed as possible though and tried to stay seated for most of it since this keeps the heart rate lower, and I felt solid on it. You come over the top of the Beast and then you have a technical descent on the backside. In fact, this whole course is not only very hilly and windy but it's also very technical, and a lot of it is on chip and seal roads. I descended quickly and from that point on, I didn't see the three cat and mouse guys again during the bike. It was very strange as from mile 28 to 56, I saw maybe three or four other riders on the course, but otherwise I was all alone out there. Just after the 30 mile mark, I was on a small descent and hit a pothole in a shadow of the road and flatted instantly. It took me maybe four or five minutes to change the flat, and I'm very proud that I stayed composed! I did not jump back on the bike and hammer nervously, trying to make up the time lost. Rather, I got right back into game plan. I felt great coming into T2. With the exception of the first few miles and the Beast, the ride felt quite easy.

There was only one other bike in T2 from my age group - the Canadian pro. I saw him out on the run as I was coming in on the bike and he had a solid lead. My legs felt really good coming out of T2! But I ran very conservatively, knowing that this run course is very hilly and it was getting warmer. I dumped ice down my suit at every aid station, trying to keep my core as cool as possible. My legs felt good, but the heat was beginning to set in. There's a big hill in the buccaneer hotel section of the run course and I walked it both times. Mostly strategic as you can't really run up it fast, so once up it and over the top, I wanted to really get back into a run groove instead of spending a good deal of time recovering from the ascent. The second time up it, I was beginning to really hurt. I kept telling myself "four more miles!". I hit the last two miles and was so overcooked, yet I knew I was also so close. At the 12 mile mark, a very tanned Brazilian guy came running by me like I was standing still. Just so happens he was in my age group. There was nothing I could do to match his pace at this point. I hung in though and finished third.

They had not allocated the Kona slots yet so I did not know if I was in or not, but it didn't matter. I called Lisa up and told her about my race. I told her I had had the best race here out of the five that I've done. I also told her that if I got a slot for Kona, I was not going to take it. I felt bad telling her this. Lisa and I have had such great times on the Big Island. I told her I didn't want to suffer in the heat any more, and that maybe I'm just getting soft. I still want to race as I love it, and love having a goal, but I want to focus on 70.3 races and I want to take the Tremblant spot. I want to train hard yet still have balance to work on other things. Lisa was great. She said "that's great you realized this, you have nothing to prove at Hawaii". Often as an athlete, we judge our whole career on our last race. Lisa was quick to remind me that this should not be the case. I have to say that I really felt at peace after this race. And I'm really glad that I came back to St. Croix this year. And I'm quite amped about aiming for a podium spot in my age group at the 70.3 WC.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

As we were standing out on Alii drive just before heading into
medical, Lisa said to me "you look great, as though you didn't even swim
and bike!"This added to the
frustration because I felt solid, ready to run a good marathon.We had to wait around to get my bike from the
transition area so we headed over to Huggo's On The Rocks to grab some fish
tacos and a beer.As imaginable, my
emotions were bouncing back and forth between sadness and anger.I said to the kids "Listen, we are going
to still have a great vacation.This is
a minor hiccup, but we Hodska's keep our heads up and chins high."Corny, but relevant.At one point while eating I just started to
laugh and said to Lisa "Can you believe I'm out of the IM because someone
stepped on my toe?!!" I view one of
my main strengths my toughness.I told
Molson before the race that my key word was resilience.And I was taken out by my toes getting
stepped on.It is kind of humorous.

The hardest part was when we walked back to the transition area, down
Alii drive towards the finish line, listening to Mike Reilly announcing to the
joyously overwhelmed athletes finishing "You are an Ironman!".Lisa and Kate were walking a few feet in
front of us, and Kate turned around with tears in her eyes and ran up and gave
me a huge hug.My heart just sank.

We've had an amazing family vacation in Hawaii.The best one yet.The day after the IM, we took the kids to
swim with the dolphins and to Hapuna beach and they were having so much fun,
forgetting quickly the drama of the previous day.That's the beauty of being a kid; their
ability to move forward and jump head first into the next day.

I've had ample time now to reflect on my challenging day.First off, had this been my very first Hawaii
Ironman, I would have walked the marathon.I thought that I didn't take the fact of how hard Hawaii is to get into
for granted, but now I know to some degree I do.I've crossed that amazing finish line many
times before.I know what it takes to
prepare to qualify and do well in this race and I will do so again in the
future if and when I'm ready.In 1996,
when I qualified for Hawaii for my very first time, I thought that that was
going to be my one time to race the Hawaii Ironman.I have returned to race there eight times
since then.Since 1996, every year that
I've wanted to qualify and race Hawaii, I have.I feel extremely fortunate that I have been blessed with a bit of
genetics that, combined with hard work, will earn me a coveted slot for
Hawaii.I kept thinking about the fact
that what if this was my one opportunity, like so many triathletes out there,
to race here and this happened?So how
could I be that angry or sad for that matter?If anything, it made me realize even more my fortune.And the fact that I didn't go out there and
hobble through the marathon shows that i do to some degree take these things
I've mentioned above for granted.But
that's also not what I came to Hawaii to do.(One quick side note on the race itself; It's been changing since
96'.I notice it more and more each
year, but they are letting more and more people in each year, and the depth of
talent is becoming greater meaning the field doesn't thin out much throughout
the race.The swim used to be aggressive
for the first third, then you'd find your space.Then it was the first two thirds were
extremely physical, and now it's the whole swim.The bike portion is the same; The first third
used to be very congested but the climb to Hawi would thin things out.Now it's even more congested and it doesn't
thin out much at all.I used to think
that drafting was avoidable no matter what but I am no longer this naive.The race really wasn't enjoyable.They need to begin thinking about wave starts
and not letting the size of the field grow any larger.)

Someone mentioned to me; "That's a shame, all that training
and this happens!".I don't look at
it that way at all and that's why I also wrote up my report card for my build
up prior to my race.I like seeing what
type of new level or condition I can put myself in.I see many training for an Ironman and they
begin to question why they are doing so.the work they are putting in becomes so controlling and overwhelming and
as physically exhausted as they are, they become even more mentally
exhausted.This, to me, signifies that
this athlete is taking the wrong personal approach towards their race.As I mention to all my athletes, I want them
to enjoy the process.I certainly did
this time around.

I view these set-backs as a learning opportunity as well.This set back was mainly out of my control,
but I learned not to line up inside on the buoy line in Hawaii unless I plan on
swimming in the low 50's.I also learned
even more to appreciate all my Ironman finishes.But the main thing I learned, and this lesson
became clear in the days proceeding the race, was that triathlon in itself is
just a part of who I am but it doesn't define me, so don't take it to
seriously.After all, there are far greater
situations taking place daily that easily put things into perspective.I can't worry about one dnf from just a
race.

I've had set backs before in my racing career and I've always
followed them up with bigger and better experiences.Always.So I'm excited and driven to see where 2013 takes me.My IM pr comes off of a set back from the
previous IM.Thinking about this, maybe
this is part of the plan?Think what you
want - that we create our own luck and destiny, which to some degree is true,
but I also believe that, if you are a hard worker, a doer, and stay positive
and progressive, that things can happen for a reason.

One of my friends mentioned to me that it's important for kids to
see their parents struggle at times or fail certain tasks, and to see that a)
they're human, and b) how they handle themselves in the face of
adversities.Another friend sent me a
great Teddy Roosevelt speech titled "The Man In The Arena" which was
extremely poignant.It made me realize
how important it is for my kids to see the value in putting yourself out there,
going for some goals or things that most can't imagine, and that yes, you may
fail at times, but the importance is in that you took the chance and put
yourself out there to begin with.I was
very moved by the outpouring of support from friends.Thank you!!

The days following the race, we explored the Hawaii coastline in a
sea raft, seeing manta rays and pods of dolphins and learning about the history
of the amazing big island.We explored
coast line trails, swam at beautiful beaches where the sand was so soft and the
water so clear.We ate at some amazing
restaurants, we went down water slides, we did stand up paddle boarding, and we
laughed a bunch.Life is not bad at all,
and I will continue to put myself out there.

I can't wait to come back in March for my Kona Camp.And my kids cannot wait to return since they
claimed they get a redo.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

I felt solid race morning. Nervous, yes, which is always good, but ready. I lined up inside and up front for the swim, and waited for the gun. All mass start swims are aggressive, but Hawaii's is much more than any other race given the fact that everyone is so fast. I expected a lot of contact for not just the start but the whole swim and sure enough, this was the case. I'm okay with that. What I didn't expect was for some ass hole to stomp his heal into my head at around the two minute mark. Usually you get kicked from people just exaggerating their normal swim kick, but this was more aggressive. This stomp stopped me cold and dazed for a few seconds. I floated onto my back absorbing the sting while more swimmers pummeled me trying to get by. I then put my head back down and continued on. Besides a headache and some dizziness, I felt comfortable in the water and swam fairly easy, saving my energy for the bike and run. The swim went by actually quickly and I was anxious to get on the bike. One discipline done, two more to go.

I ran through transition and grabbed my bike bag and headed into the changing tent. Volunteers were telling us to make our way to the far end where there was more room. The tent was chaotic with frantic triathletes changing into their bike gear. I sat down in a chair and began to dig through my bike bag, when the unfortunate happened; an athlete to my left leapt out of his chair and began to run towards the exit in his bike shoes. With all his weight, he landed with one of his strides on my left foot, and in particular my big toe and the one next to it. The pain was severe but I tried to not think about it and shoved my feet into my own shoes and hobbled to my bike. The first few peddle strokes, I knew there was trouble in the foot, but again, just did my best to block it out.

My legs felt good and I was moving along at a nice smooth clip. Again, it was very congested out there. The fact that everyone is so fast and that they now let 2000 athletes in as opposed to 1500 when I first raced here made things more crowded out on the bike course than my eight other times here. Around 15 miles in, I moved to the left to pass a line of 20 or more athletes. As I'm passing, I come up on another athlete who is passing on the left and sit there for not even three seconds as I caught a quick breather before moving past him, when a motorcycle pulls up to my left and flashes me the red drafting card. 20 years in the sport and I get my first drafting penalty! At maybe the 30 mile mark, there is the penalty tent where I have to stop and dismantle for four minutes to serve my penalty. there were a bunch of athletes in the tent including former big time pro Ken Glah who is known for his strength on the bike. It's good they were giving penalties, the problem is that there was no way for the field to thin out. Simple math of too many athletes in too small a space on the course. I remounted and continued on, and wasn't thinking much about my throbbing foot because my head was throbbing! The winds began to kick in and they were gusting hard from the side. As we climbed towards Hawi, I was zoned out for a bit, not really paying attention to anything. An athlete passed me on the left then immediately cut in front of me. I came to attention and began to drift back giving him his legal space when I get the card again from another motorcycle! I yelled "Are you f'n kidding me?!" at the official but he just drove onwards. Just past the turnaround, I served my second four minute penalty. As I stood down, I didn't feel right. Not my legs or stomach, but my head and foot. I did my best again to block it out and continue on. My legs felt good and I was riding at a conservative pace.

The rest of the ride was a conscious effort to stay focused on keeping my space on the crowded course and disconnecting from the pain. The bike was interesting this year in that the wind came in sections. One moment, you are flying along at 24+ mph, then the next minute, you are pedaling in your small chainring, out of the saddle, going down a hill. The heat began to kick in, so I doused myself at every aid station with a bottle of water and rehydrated with electrolyte drink, water, and saltstick capsules. As you ride an IM, especially in the heat, your feet will swell. My left foot was throbbing and the pain from my toes jamming into the front of my shoe made things much worse. With 15 miles left to go, I really wanted off the bike, but not because of beat up legs or tiredness like previous Ironmans I had done in the past. I needed out of my shoes and I wanted some advil for the migraine-like headache.

As you re-enter Kona, the crowds become very dense. Out on the Queen K highway through the lava fields, the rods are closed to traffic, so besides the aid stations every 10 miles and the kawaihai corner, there are no spectators. I was searching for Lisa and the kids - I had a feeling running was going to be a challenge and I wanted to prepare them for a longer marathon. I found them in the massive crowd and yelled not to move as I rode by and slipped my feet out of my shoes, preparing to dismount. Typically, I dismount by slipping both feet out while riding, standing on my shoes, then swinging my right leg over the bike and hopping off running. This time though, I knew that wasnt an option. I came to a complete stop, climbed off the bike and gingerly walked through the transition area. I couldn't put any pressure on my toes on my left foot, and I couldn't bend them. I walked out of transition to the crowd yelling "hang in there! you can do this! Come on 860!!" - this killed me as my legs felt ready to run. I came up on Lisa and the kids and explained what happened. Kate was crying. I told them I was going to try and run a bit and to meet me up ahead, which I did - I tried to run, but couldn't. We walked back to the med tent where they had an X-ray machine. The orthopedic diagnosed me with severe swelling of the tissue sack around my toes and a crushed sesmoid bone. He said that if we stabilized it, i could probably walk the marathon, although it might not be the smartest move. I was out of the race. I was devastated. My kids were even more devastated.

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Wednesday began as did Monday and Tuesday here; 4:45am wake up, drink a muscle milk, stop at Starbucks then make the 30 minute drive to Kona, swim at 6:45am.I met some of the CT group to swim - the plan was to swim out to the half way buoy then swim from there over to the floating island stationed well off shore. They had great Kona coffee, fresh muffins, lounge chairs and even palm trees on this little barge. After a quick caffeine fix, we swam back in to the pier. Each day it get's more and more busy. Many of the tri manufacturers are out there hawking their products. TYR was giving away goggles although the way the nutty triathletes were grabbing and fighting for the swag, you would have thought they were giving out Rolex's.Travis and I grabbed some breakfast at Lava Java, compliments of Megan Seerfoss, then we hit the expo. The expo in Hawaii is impressive. Every manufacturer is there and the bigger one's all try to outdo each other. Most have all their new latest and greatest gear to show.I headed back to my condo late morning to go out for an easy 30 minute run along the coast. There is a beach path that starts as sand then turns to lava rock, then in front of the resorts it's a nice walkway. I run out along the pacific and beautifully groomed properties or resort pools. I felt comfortable although there was a nice breeze coming off the ocean to tame the 90 degree heat. We discovered this out and back run at my March camp, and I never find it hard as it puts my mind in a really good place. I finished up the run with a dip into the ocean, where I floated around for a bit and took in the calmness.Later on, I drove back to Kona to drop off my bike at the Cannondale booth. Murray was going to give it the once over. He's worked on my bike in Hawaii for maybe five trips now and he's the man. The first time I dropped it off to him, I just asked if he could check out my shifting. A few hours later, I stopped back to grab my bike and he had gone through the whole bike including the bottom bracket and put brand new tape on!Travis and I then hit the Kona Brew House for a couple of beers, some pork nachos and and a thai chicken pizza. All in all, a good day!This morning, after a swim, breakfast, and easy spin, I was driving back to the condo. I was driving north on the Queen K highway, the same road the course is on. It's a perfectly clear day and I could see the observatory on Mauna Lani off to my right at 14000 feet above sea level. In front of me, I could see the Queen K wind for miles, and to the slight left, the northern tip of the island where the we will ride to before making the return trip on Saturday. To my left is the pacific and a clear view of Maui. I thought about how much I love this bike course, and how fortunate I am to have had the opportunity to learn and appreciate such an amazing place. It's hard to really explain, but there is something really remarkably special about this island.Okay, time to relax.Cheers,

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Tuesday here in Hawaii. I woke up early and drove down to Kona (30 minutes from where I'm staying - I prefer to be out of the hub of IM chaos) to meet Mitch West at 6:45am to swim on the course again. From 7am on, the pier is packed with swimmers so I like to get in at 6:45 when hardly anyone is there yet. The plan was to swim out to the half way buoy, then stop at the floating coffee boat for an espresso on the return. Mitch tucked in behind me and we set out. The water felt great - swimming here is therapeutic for me. The visibilty is 100+ feet and it's quite amazing taking everything in as you swim. I got to the halfway buoy but Mitch wasn't there, so I floated and waited around for a bit. I figured he maybe turned earlier so I started to head back. As I began the return trip, a big object about 15 feet underneath me came up from behind and startled the shit out of me! I froze, sitting up in the water for second then sticking my head back under to get another glimpse. It was a dolphin playing around. I popped my head back up out of the water again to get a breath and noticed three dorsel fins just off to my left. Three more dolphins! The one underneath me came up and to within maybe six feet of me and then joined his friends. It was pretty amazing and I was looking around for another swimmer to take this in, but no one was near me. I guess they swam out towards the coffee boat because a few others spotted them as well. i cruised back in and rinsed quick. A mob was surrounding Craig Alexander who had just finished up his swim. Yesterday when I swam, Andreas Raelert was getting in the water at the same time. Both these guys are so slight and somewhat small - no wonder they run so fast.

I did a one hour ride out on the course later in the morning and the wind was blowing! I relaxed for pretty much the rest of the day. I'm going to lay very low between now and race day as I have caught a slight cold. My daughter was sick before I left. Combine that with standing on a soccer field on Saturday from 10:30am until 9pm in damp weather where the temperature dropped significantly, then flying for 11.5 hours the next day... The irony is the last time I was sick was going into St. Croix in May! I'm not going to sweat it though. I just need to rest.

Monday, October 08, 2012

Six days away from my ninth Ironman Hawaii. Now's the time to reflect on "what we've done to prepare for this". Jeff Molson recently posted a great article on my web site titled "The Report Card" which discusses how he loved report card day because it gave him an honest depiction of how well prepared he was, and his racing in his adult life became a great report card, even though he has adjusted his grading method a bit as he's aged as an athlete. It got me thinking about my report card for this Kona, and of course, comparing it to my other Kona builds.

The thing is, just as Jeff's self grading process has changed, so has mine. Even though I haven't raced yet, I like to give myself a combined total grade that's based on how I prepared for this race in training, with my family, and with my career. In other words, I've witnessed friends building for an IM who would receive an A in their training, yet they didn't go the extra yard at work giving them a B there, and sacrificed to much family time giving them a D there. So their GPA , in my opinion, is a C, which I guess by school definition is satisfactory, but in my middle aged life I feel it's more unsatisfactory.

So here's my honest assessment of my 2012 Kona pre-race GPA:

My training went well for the most part. I relied on my cumulative base and made most of my training quality. The race will be the true test of how this worked, but I always tell my athletes that we have to realistically look at what type of time we have each week and optimize that time. For me, this means an average of 10 to 12 hours per week which is quite minimalistic compared to most age group triathletes. So I made the most out of the 10 to 12 hours. I watched a video recently that Chris McCormack did where he answered some questions on nutrition. One of the questions was on post training nutrition, and he explained how the first thing we need to do is absorb that session we just did, by sitting down for awhile, resting, letting ourselves absorb the session. I guess toweling off quickly then changing clothes and forcing in a cliff bar while driving to my next client or to pick up my daughter from soccer practice isn't sitting down and absorbing the session. But in the real world, and I am by far the majority as an endurance athlete here, I don't have the 18+ hours per week to train and 7+ hours of non-sleep recovery to absorb sessions. I did put a lot of emphasis on recovery. I still feel as though I can crank out a hard effort like I did back in 97' however, it now will take me a day or two longer to recover from this. If I had a specific hard session scheduled for a particular day and I still felt unrecovered from a previous session the day or two before, I either went easy or took a rest day and did that specific hard session on the next day.

I did quiz's along the way to assess my fitness and progress. The VT ride was a nice quiz that assured me that I still had that aerobic cumulative base to go long. Sidetrack here, but I feel most overestimate building base, especially if they have been an endurance athlete for a year or more, and they fall into the trap of just logging junk mileage. Most triathletes can get on their bike and ride for 4+ hrs, regardless of their present condition. It may be at only 12 mph, but they could still do it. Now, how do we bump that up to 20 mph? I'll give you a hint - it's not by riding lot's more miles at 12 mph, or even 17 mph. Okay, back on track. I also did a weekly tempo ride on a somewhat closed course .8 mile loop which sounds boring as hell, but I liked the concentrated effort and I liked to track my progress each week. Some of these sessions, I'd pedal the 45 minute cool down home so beat that I felt as though my crank was square instead of round, yet I'd be smiling because there is something rewarding about suffering through a hard session to endurance athletes. I did a weekly track or treadmill session that went fairly well. I still have an imbalance in my right hip/si joint that screams at me when I'm not recovered - this is something I am really going to address after this race. It only bothers me when I run, but it can be quite bothersome. It never get's worse though, so I block it out. I don't pay any attention to it unless it's so bad that it's changing my run gait in which case i back off the session. Swimming - well, I began in late August and feel okay in the water. I don't dock myself here because it's not as though I just don't swim because I hate it. Again, I weigh the time I have and where it's best spent. Because I have a little bit of a swimming background, I can rally enough to get me through most IM swims in an hour give or take.

Mentally, I really enjoyed the training for this IM. It wasn't arduous like some of the catabalistic sessions I had done for previous IM's. I chose different bike courses than I typically would ride in training, and because I was only riding three times per week as compared to four or five in the past, I felt relatively fresh for my key sessions. Besides VT, I only did one other 100 mile ride. But I did a lot of hard four hour rides. We shall see how this pays off on Saturday - that's the key, right? But physically, I'd give this build a solid A, mainly because I made progress and enjoyed the process.

I'll keep this short regarding my career and family, just in case anyone is actually reading this or hasn't drifted back to their Facebook page yet out of boredom.

Career: I've been in my own business since 1995 and anyone in their own business knows that you are always working because your mind is constantly thinking about how to keep your business effective, and you never want to rest on your laurels. I have some great projects in the works and these things get put on hold while training for an IM. I also want to spend more time with the people and athletes I presently work with. I will pick both of these things up as soon as I get back to CT, and with renewed enthusiasm, because I'm always very motivated coming off this race. Actually just writing this paragraph down makes me more anxious to get some of these ideas rolling and also makes me more accountable, which I like. My grade here during this build was a C.

Family: I have a rule that my family shouldn't pay the price for my obsession. It's easier to state that rule than actually stay 100% true to it because the reality is that the family will always suffer a bit when one member of it is training for an IM. I made a concerted effort to be mentally present with my wife when we are together, even though she may disagree;) I always look for signs from her to see if my training is getting to her and address these early on and quickly. I remind myself all the time to do this, and to never take her for granted. Lisa made things really easy though as she was a gem with my schedule. She loves Hawaii and is as excited to show the kids this island as I am. Each time I asked her if it was okay for me to get in a bit longer session, she was fine with it. And yes, you should ask your spouse if it's okay, not tell them this is what you are doing. Sure, some of the home projects didn't get done, but they will, and she didn't pressure me here whatsoever. I didn't miss one of my kids events. I would still go out and play basketball in the driveway with my son, although maybe it was for only 45 minutes now instead of 90. I had dinner with my family just about every night. These are the things that I personally weigh heavily and I made sure they didn't slide, even if it meant missing some training. I'd give my grade here a B. I'm a very tough grader in this category.

I would say my honest assessment of my pre-race report card GPA would be a B. When training for an IM, I don't know if it's possible for anyone to honestly receive an A. I do know that it's not possible for me. And also that I'm content with a B given the fact that there is no such thing as life balance in IM.